


(In)Difference, The Miscellaneous Archive

by jacksgreysays (jacksgreyson)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2018-11-21 20:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksgreyson/pseuds/jacksgreysays
Summary: (The collection of loosely related snippets and ficlets set in the (In)Difference 'verse. Originally posted on tumblr.)





	1. (2015-01-23) ficlet

“How is Nae-chan lately?” I have asked this three times in the past month. It was probably getting annoying by now, but I was desperate to know.

“She got into a bit of trouble in Otafuku Gai, but nothing she couldn’t handle,” Nonetheless, Mito-sama answered my question with a smile, before shooing me off to join her granddaughter.

I tried not scowl overly much. But luckily, Mito-sama found it endearing rather than rude.

“Who is Nae-chan?” Tsunade asked, trying to be nonchalant, but by the twist of her mouth and the fidgeting of her dominant hand, I could tell she was irritated.

Nae-chan is not a person. Tsunade does not know this.

“Just a friend, Tsunade-hime,” I deflected, before moving into some warm-up stretches. It had been three months since Tsunade and I began exercising during our overlapping days off, five months since we both graduated from the academy.

Five months since I was passed over for a Nae-chan position.

She took the hint and began her own stretches too, but she didn’t let the topic drop completely.  “I don’t remember there being a girl named Nae in our class,” It’s not like we couldn’t multi-task, we’d be extremely poor examples of kunoichi if we couldn’t talk and stretch at the same time. And anyway, it wasn’t like stretching was something that we’d have time to do out in the field. It’s strange what things seem luxurious when you became a child soldier. “How come I don’t know this Nae-chan, but my grandmother does?”

Because your grandmother is the head of the undercover kunoichi network–she’s the one that founded the Nae-chan organization, I carefully don’t say. Instead I picked at the real reason for Tsunade’s curiosity.

“Are you jealous because I call her Nae-chan and I still call you Tsunade-hime?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her flush a fiery red. It obviously wasn’t from the minimal exertion of the warmup.

“What- I just. I just think it’s weird that you always ask about her but I’ve never even seen her! What kind of friend is that?” She crossed her arms defensively, and even as I turned to face her, she still had traces of an embarrassed blush on her cheeks. Even disregarding her famous shinobi lineage, Tsunade would not have been a good Nae-chan candidate at all.

“Well, Tsunade-hime-sama-chan,” I said the mouthful of butchered titles as saccharinely as I could, “I seem to recall you spending most of our time at the academy beating up a certain boy that you have the unfortunate luck to call a teammate,” Getting her started on Jiraiya was bound to distract her from the Nae-chan issue.

“That pervert!” She raged, resuming her stretches with vigorous energy, “I can’t believe I’m stuck with him of all people! He still calls me Princess Flat Chest! Even in front of sensei!”

Ooh, that’s rough. Considering her sensei was the current Hokage, she was literally being made fun of in front of both her commanding officer and the most powerful person in the village.

“It’s because you keep reacting, he left the rest of us alone once we started ignoring him.” Well, and after Suisen stuck him in an hour-long genjutsu; physical retaliation didn’t stick, but that had. She still won’t tell us what exactly she made him see. Hmm, “He might be a masochist, and you’re giving him his pain fix.”

Tsunade looked so horrified for a second that I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“I wish I had known this sooner,” She sighed wistfully, certainly more heartfelt than a matter of Jiraiya inspired irritation deserved.

Isolating Tsunade hadn’t been something the other girls and I did on purpose. I admit that part of it was because of the intimidating Senju name, though another part of it was simply a lack of advances on her part too. Mostly, though, it was the Nae-chan thing. We were candidates, and she wasn’t. She simply couldn’t be.

As previously stated, the Nae-chan organization was sort of an undercover kunoichi network. But it was less of a spy network and more of a secret standing army. Girls had smaller chakra reserves than boys, and often had better chakra control to go with it. Which meant that most academy-trained kunoichi could compress their chakra into seemingly civilian levels far easier than their male counterparts.

Throughout the towns of Fire country, and even a few allied countries, there was at least one Nae-chan living a double life. Especially in the capitol, which was teeming with the who’s who of the aristocracy and merchant sector, and also included the headquarters of the dwindling samurai army and the second largest Fire temple. There were at least twenty Nae-chans stationed in the capitol.

In the academy, I had been friends with my six fellow Nae-chan candidates. Close friends, even. It’s hard not to be when you’re ten years old and told you might be part of what basically amounted to a secret society of kunoichi. The seven of us had been pulled aside one day during our third year, we had been told that we had potential. Of course, many kunoichi who graduate the academy end up as a Nae-chan–but a lot of those end up in the small villages in the outskirts of the country; almost a border patrol, really. But the Nae-chans in the capitol… they were the elite. That’s what the seven of us had been training for.

So it sucked when, by graduation, my chakra reserves had developed enough to out me as ninja-trained. The six of them got the Nae-chan positions they wanted, and I couldn’t begrudge them that, but I also felt helplessly left behind when we all graduated.

Which must have been what Tsunade felt like the entire time, being excluded from the group of kunoichi that could actually keep up with her. We must have been intimidating in our own way, a flock of preteen girls whispering to each other, because it wasn’t until after the others had left for their new careers, that Tsunade approached me as the only other kunoichi to end up on a jounin team.


	2. (2015-02-03) ficlet

She was tired when she got home. Not in that achey way that speaks of a satisfyingly productive day, but weary and drained. It was as if all of her energy had been sucked out and she had just been left this shuffling husk of a person.

It explained why she startled so badly when the lights flickered on. It didn’t excuse her, of course, as she should have detected someone being in her living room before that. Her night vision was blown, but she could still sense the intruder. She jerked away from the door and threw the closest thing at hand.

Which was an apple. Not exactly the most fearsome of weapons, but she just went grocery shopping. The intruder, unsurprisingly not falling to the apple’s mighty wrath, simply caught it before chomping down with an obnoxiously loud crunch.

“Thanks,” Nawaki, the little punk, garbled out cheerfully. “I was getting hungry, there’s nothing edible in here!”

“Which is why I went grocery shopping.” She responded tersely, bringing herself and the remainders of her groceries to the kitchen, “I wouldn’t have had to if a certain someone didn’t keep breaking in here and eating all of my food.”

Nawaki just grinned, still munching into the apple she had thrown at him. Why anyone thought he was such a nice boy confused her, he was such a little shit. Only Tsunade understood and at least with them, it made sense–siblings loved each other, sure, but younger brothers would always be annoying. Kiyoshi, on the other hand, was not obligated in any way to put up with this.

“What are you even doing here, Omago-sama?” She asked, the honorable term sounding like an insult due to her irritation.

“Ah, don’t be like that! I heard your team got back, what with the way Nee-san was fluttering around. I just want to hang out, but I didn’t know where you’d be. I figured I’d just wait here until you got back, and it worked. Also, free food.”

Sometimes, Kiyoshi regret helping Nawaki with training and saving his life. It certainly seemed to him to be an invitation into her life. But she shook her head when she remembered how broken it would have left her friend, and Nawaki didn’t deserve to die because he was annoying.

She sighed, “So what then, Nawaki-kun?”

His grin stretched even wider than before, “I wanted to show you something! I’ve been working on it while you were away. Look!” The finished apple core in his hand began shuddering before cracking in half, bright green shoots sprouting out from the seeds. In seemingly no time at all the seedlings were the length of his arm.

“That’s amazing,” Kiyoshi breathed, finally approaching and admiring the new plants. Nawaki preened, “You’ve got Wood Release working on plants besides Hashirama trees?”

“Just trees so far, and I can’t really make them attack so much as I just boost their growth rate. But it’s cool isn’t it?” He sheepishly scratched at the nape of his neck with his free hand.

“It really is,” She confirmed, proud of him, before remembering– “No one saw you, did they?”

“No way, I know better than that!” Nawaki protested, he wasn’t putting any chakra into the technique, so the seedlings had stopped their miraculous growth; but at his irritation they seemed to wrap around his arm protectively. “You taught me better than that,”

“I didn’t really teach you… I have practically opposite chakra natures from you,” Wood Release, being a combination of Water and Earth, really was as far as one could get from her primary Lightning and secondary Wind natures.

“Well I certainly didn’t learn from anyone else,” Nawaki rolled his eyes, “And anyway, I wasn’t talking about that.”

He was probably talking about the lessons in secret-keeping, being underestimated, and, frankly, paranoia. Besides the two of them, the only other person who knew about his Wood Release abilities was Mito-sama and she certainly wasn’t going to endanger her grandson by letting anyone else know. While Konoha would have celebrated the Senju bloodline limit resurfacing, that tiny boost in moral wasn’t worth the danger it would put Nawaki in. And while she was pretty sure Orochimaru wouldn’t do anything sketchy, her hatred of Danzo only increased after actually meeting him in person.

She sighed again, something she often found herself doing around both of the Senju siblings, but especially Nawaki. “While I appreciate you showing me your progress, I really am tired. I was just going to go straight to sleep,”

“Aw, fine.” He grumbled, but acquiesced, “I’ll see you tomorrow anyway,”

“What’s happening tomorrow?” She asked, confused. She should have at least three days free time after that last mission. Not that she would be assigned a mission with Nawaki, anyway, being different teams and ranks entirely.

“Oh, yeah. Well, Obaa-san told me to tell you to come over for lunch tomorrow. She said something about Nae-chan needing help? I don’t know. Anyway, see you tomorrow!” He greeted before taking a shortcut out her living room window. That idiot really had to stop deactivating her traps all the time, though she was probably the idiot for telling him how to.

But… Nae-chan needed help? She didn’t know… she couldn’t be a Nae-chan anymore, so maybe it was something like back up? But wouldn’t it make more sense to just have it be an official mission?

Ugh, she was too tired to deal with this. Mito-sama would tell her tomorrow. Now was time to rest.


	3. (2015-02-10) ficlet

_I am not some brood mare_ , she thinks spitefully, bitterly. She is tired and cold, most likely side effects from blood loss and being in labor for over 24 hours, but she is still alive, as is her baby, and that is all that matters. Right now.

The doctor looks to her, carrying the baby cleaned of all those bodily fluids and wrapped in a blanket. “What will you name her?”

“Shizuka. Utsugi Shizuka.” She says, the pain and exhaustion and desperation clawing at her throat. “I don’t want her to be a Hatake, please. Just one, Tsunade.”

Tsunade has been Kiyoshi’s doctor for all of her children’s births–in spite of the continuing haemophobia. She was there, calming Kiyoshi’s fears as a first time mother with Kakashi. She was there, angry on Kiyoshi’s behalf for _Sakumo_ not being there during the birth of the twins. And now she is here, looking at mother and child with such sorrow and pity and simmering, bitter rage. Sakumo is not here again–not because he is understandably stuck in another country on a high priority mission this time–because he is the Yondaime Hokage and there is an ambassador from Hidden Mist.

“Utsugi Shizuka it is, then.” Tsunade agrees and stares balefully at the nurse, shocked by the lack of her famous husband and their lack of respect for her famous husband, until he agrees as well.

This baby of hers is lucky, lucky to have inherited Kiyoshi’s unremarkable black hair and lucky that Sakumo’s eyes are not one of his defining traits. No one would look at this dark haired, dark eyed baby and think she were the fourth child of the fourth Hokage. She can use the Utsugi name, free of the danger-laden Hatake name. Kiyoshi is sorry that the same cannot be said for the rest of her children.

“Kunugi is still with the kids,” Tsunade says–no longer doctor, but best friend–brushing away the sweat damp hair from Kiyoshi’s face and transferring the baby into her arms, “They’re doing alright. Do you want him to bring them here?”

“Yes, we should all be together,” She responds, watching Tsunade leave the room to flag down a messenger, “One last Hatake family moment,” She murmurs to little baby Shizuka. Little baby Shizuka who isn’t a Hatake, and will never be if she has anything to say about it.


	4. (2015-03-01) ficlet

When it comes to our clan’s heritage, there’s a disparity in what we tell people and what we keep to ourselves. Father claims we share ancestry with the Hyuuga (brags it more like). Superficially it passes muster–we share the same basic coloring of black hair, pale skin and eyes. But while our eyesight is sharp, it’s still within baseline human ability–we have nothing on the Hyuuga or even the Uchiha. It still helps with our archery techniques, though–which is yet another thing which sets us apart from our supposed cousins who use mostly close range taijutsu.

But our clan’s skills, like our keen eyes, straddle the line between the truth of our ancestry and the falsehood of our Hyuuga relations. While most people know of the Byakugan, there’s more to the Hyuuga blood limit than that. Jyuuken, their family taijutsu style, relies on the blocking of an opponent’s tenketsu. This is done by making one’s own chakra an almost solid plug–chakra is energy, it dissipates in most circumstances. Unless you are a Hyuuga. But our clan’s archery doesn’t need physical arrows because we make them out of our chakra. Just like the Hyuuga, Father attributes, in the rare occasions it comes up.

For the most part, when Father says we’re distantly related to the Hyuuga, everyone knows it’s a lie–which makes it harmless and a good cover that no one bothers to crack. In everything, Father tells the truth, unless a lie is necessary. Father is the clan head. The lie is necessary.

There is an art to teaching children of our clan’s true heritage. We are never told outrightly, not when the walls have ears, not in this political climate, but by the time we are of training age we know. Those born to our clan develop an extra sense, one which we are encouraged to keep quiet, to keep hidden. The sense isn’t flashy, as invisible as the magnetic fields it corresponds to. But sometimes we slip, children do not always know what is secret and what is normal.

We master cardinal directions as children before figuring out the idea of left and right. We claim that it makes communication more precise, that we are simply maintaining our family’s reputation as excellent navigators. Even as children we can always find our way Home, regardless of where in the village we are. Our clan buys property in the north part of Konoha for a reason.

It’s the arrows that gives it away to a close observer. They are made from chakra, yes, but not pure chakra like the Hyuuga use. This is our secret: our arrows are Lightning natured chakra wrapped in Wind natured chakra. The latter is not a secret, there is no harm in Wind affinity–the Sarutobi family occasionally has natural Wind affinity, and one of them is the Hokage.

It’s the former which we hide, careful and unspoken; we try not to bring much attention to ourselves and our techniques even less so. But when we do, when that attention is on us, we mimic what Father says: the Hyuuga, we’re just like them. And we fall back into obscurity soon enough–we are a minor clan trying to ride the coattails of a Noble clan, one of the oldest stories in the book. Boring, predictable, obvious.

Except for how it’s a lie.


	5. (2015-03-12) ficlet

She makes plans, has arrangements waiting in the wings, to leave. But she holds, because she doesn’t want to do so in the dark night, like a secret. She’s not running away, fleeing like a criminal, like prey, but it is leaving. She lets her friends know, murmurs it to them in between snippets of normal conversation. She states her intentions, because she is not going to be convinced otherwise. But there is one person whose blessing she needs, whose word would make her postpone but not completely forgo her plans.

Her eldest son is six years old, a child still, but with knives in his hands and an even more dangerous mind. Technically, with that stamped metal plate tied around his head, he’s a soldier and so an adult. But he’s just a boy, and while she knows he can do amazing things without her, she’s not just going to abandon her son.

The twins are only two, too young to fully understand, and though it breaks her heart, they may not even remember her (but their eyes gleam with that same cognizant genius that allowed her eldest to skip years ahead of the pack). Her eldest, though, he may see her leaving as betrayal, as her picking his newest baby sibling over him.

She goes down on her knees before him. Ostensibly to put them at similar eye levels, but it feels almost supplicant. They are at home, at the house so large and protected, like an empty shell; they can speak freely because no one is there to eavesdrop. She is sometimes struck with the thought that she tried to fill it with children, only to have doomed them to rattling around this prison with her.

But her eldest darling boy understands too well, has tried to do the same with pups of every breed. He listens and, after a tense silence, acquiesces. He is envious, but he knows it is too late for him and for the twins.

It is the last time they see each other for a decade.

A caravan of civilians are making their way out of Konoha, among their number is a black-haired woman breast-feeding a similarly black-haired baby. In the comfort of their own home, the gate guards are lax and as squeamish as any single man–they do not look at her closely; and anyway, two groups behind the caravan is the Sannin Tsunade, scowl on her pretty face and as frightening as ever.

The Yondaime Hokage is told that his wife and unborn child died during labor. He hasn’t seen her in three weeks, so accepts it as true.


	6. (2015-03-15) ficlet

They are not opposites, nor are they two halves of a whole. They are similar, but not the same; complementary, resonating, twins. They are the children of a genius and a prophetess, and they see the world around them with open minds ready to learn. Her first word is “how,” his is “why;” and it is a theme which follows for the rest of their lives.

-

As younger siblings they are always a step behind their older brother. It’s not so bad, because at least they walk together. Their brother graduates from the Academy at six years old, they do so at seven. He achieves the rank of chuunin at eight, they at ten; he becomes jounin at twelve, they do so at fifteen after spending a year as the in-between tokubetsu rank. They are still leaders of the pack, of course, but they look forward when they run and all they can see is themselves falling behind their older brother no matter how they strive.

-

The war ends abruptly in the spring between their ninth and tenth birthday. By that time, they have already served for two years and are considered veterans. For the most part, their missions were low-risk, no one wanting to endanger two of the Hokage’s children. But they still reach for their blades at sudden movements, begin gathering chakra when any noise seems out of place (they have not been in the village for seven months, so every movement seems sudden, every noise out of place).

Their age-mates, the ones who have just barely missed war-time graduation protocols, complain about being stuck in school for another three years. These students will be utilized in reconstruction, small chores that will gradually be turned into low-rank missions as peace settles over the world. Some of them smile in relief at not having to go to war, but others still dream about the adventures and glory of being real ninja.

The twins know that there is no such thing.


	7. (2015-03-16) ficlet

They try not to think too often about their first attempt at the Jounin Trials. Not that they comported themselves shamefully, but it was still embarrassing to be denied something you wanted in such a public manner.

The Jounin Trials are far different than the Chuunin Exams–the latter focusing on teamwork, strategic thinking, and, to put it crassly, staying power. You don’t always have to win in order to make chuunin, you just have to last long enough and be impressive while doing so.

In contrast, the Jounin Trials were determined by the number of victories scored. Jounin trials were unique to each village, some needing a jounin hopeful to kill a current jounin in order to be promoted (no guesses as to which village that was) but Konoha, touting their friendly peace-time reputation merely needed their ninja to be good enough to win against other chuunin in the running and two jounin moderators.

Fighting chuunin hadn’t been a problem, no matter that some of the other jounin hopefuls were almost twice their age. But it was when they were fighting the two jounin moderators that they realized–together the twins fought like two jounin, but alone they were always outmatched.

There had been a few other candidates promoted, but they had been found unowrthy. In the face of their father, who declined to make a decision, the Jounin Commander and the Chuunin Commander their hopes were rejected.

Instead, they had been made tokubetsu jounin, specialty “teamwork,” which was ridiculous because, except for each other, they never had any permanent teammates.


	8. (2015-07-12) ficlet

The Utsugi clan compound is hardly deserving of the name. There are maybe eight smaller families, siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles to each other, and really it’s more of a massive extended single house than a neighborhood.

She was born during a low birth peak meaning that, unlike her other cousins who have at least three age mates to grow up with, the nearest Utsugi relatives to her on either side have a gap of over eight years. She’s far from lonely though, a trail of children not yet old enough to be at the academy beseeching her to play ninja. Older cousins ruffling her hair in congratulations for passing, their own flak jackets as new as her headband. An uncle, who may or may not be ANBU, gives her a booklet of shock tags, a handsome graduation gift indeed.

Her parents, as enthusiastic over their only child’s achievements as ever, have begun planning a clan wide celebration. Though, to be fair, there was a celebration for cousin Tetsuo’s promotion to tokujou last month and anyway, her father is the clan head; a celebration was expected.

It should be a good day.

But as she watched her friends get placed on teams obviously slated to fail, and herself put on a team with two of the better male students in their class, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of her plan twelve years in the making crumble around her.

She could have been a Nae-chan, she thinks. She would have been free. Instead, Kunugi Mokume stares dispassionately at her while Dan Katou smiles, young and very much not dead.

Her eyes flick between him and the only other viable team–the one with the Rookie of the Year, the frustratingly skilled dead last, and the Senju Princess.

Likely sensing her gaze, Tsunade looks back and smiles hesitantly.

She could have been free.


	9. Word Prompts (P12): Pen and Paper

Sometimes, especially in times like now, when she has a profusely bleeding leg wound and nearly depleted chakra, she’ll think about how none of this is real. In a way, it’s comforting–if it’s not real then her actions don’t have real consequences, she can make mistakes and do as she pleases.

But, in a completely opposite way, it’s terrifying: if none of this is real, then she’s not real; which means all of her pain–her impending death–means absolutely nothing.

“Hold on, Kiyoshi,” Dan says, pale hands pressed shakily over her thigh. Kunugi’s back is warm against hers, even through the layers of cloth. Or maybe she’s just that cold.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” she says, teeth chattering. For getting injured to the point of immobility. For thinking, even for just a moment, that neither of her teammates might be real–that they might just be drawings in a story in another world, “I’m s-so sor-rry,” she begins to slur, her vision greying out.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Kunugi says, the vibration of his words and the rhythm of his breathing filtering through to her own unsteady chest.

“Yeah, that’s my job,” Dan tries to joke, but the concern in his voice is too audible.

She wants to laugh, anyway, to make him feel better, but all that comes out is a slightly harsher exhale.

“Hey! Stay awake Kiyoshi,” Dan says, breaking out what they like to call his future Hokage voice. The tone that would one day command a village.

But she doesn’t respond.


	10. (Five Teachers Kiyoshi Might Have Had)

Utsugi Kiyoshi stands alongside Katou Dan and Mokume Kunugi and waits for their sensei to appear.

Their sensei, Shimura Danzo.

Kiyoshi tries not to scream.

She manages to hold off until she is alone, at home, a pillow pressed over her face.

Her parents think it is excitement and nerves and, well, they’re not wrong exactly.

Because any hope of not being tangled up in the story of Konoha to be has been irrevocably shot.

She’s not entirely sure what to do–just knows that she won’t stand idly by as Shimura Danzo twists Konoha on itself.

Maybe she’ll stop him or maybe she’ll help him or maybe she’ll usurp him entirely.

But she needs must do something–either that, or she’ll die trying–and isn’t that just the absolute worst of it.

~

Utsugi Kiyoshi stands alongside Katou Dan and Mokume Kunugi and waits for their sensei to appear.

Their sensei, Uchiha Kagami.

Kiyoshi doesn’t hide her confusion.

Mostly because… it doesn’t make any sense and she doesn’t know what else to feel otherwise.

An Uchiha? She doesn’t even know which Uchiha this is–if he’s at all related to the specific Uchiha that will come later.

Doesn’t know if he’ll have children and grandchildren, if he’ll live to see Itachi or Obito kill him or if he’ll be dead long before that.

What is she supposed to do? Can she do anything?

Well, at the very least, she can get accustomed to how the Sharingan works. Just in case.

—

Utsugi Kiyoshi stands alongside Katou Dan and Mokume Kunugi and waits for their sensei to appear.

Their sensei, Mitokado Homura.

Kiyoshi treads lightly.

She doesn’t know much about him–just that he was the Hokage’s teammate, held a place on the Council, and at some point will fall prey to Danzo whether by Sharingan or just normal human manipulation.

Either way, it’s a precarious situation. She’s not sure how any of her actions may change the future–if it will at all. For all she knows, this was meant to be and nothing she does will change anything.

For now, she’ll watch and wait. It’s what her sensei would advise, after all.

—

Utsugi Kiyoshi stands alongside Katou Dan and Mokume Kunugi and waits for their sensei to appear.

Their sensei, Utatane Koharu.

Kiyoshi smiles, bright and sharp.

She’s met Koharu before, during the special club from kunoichi classes. Nae-chan.

Koharu was never a Nae-chan–too noticeably skilled and part of the Utatane clan on top of that–but she had been the only kunoichi on Team Tobirama. The only kunoichi on the Sandaime Hokage’s Council, and Mito-sama’s (the Nae-chan program’s) connection to legitimacy.

She almost wants to cry because maybe this is a sign–some kind path already forged that won’t make her leave her dreams behind.

Maybe Kiyoshi will never be a Nae-chan, but she can still help, still be a part of it.

She’s not alone.

—

Utsugi Kiyoshi stands alongside Katou Dan and Mokume Kunugi and waits for their sensei to appear.

Their sensei, Akimichi Torifu.

Kiyoshi gives a quiet sigh of relief.

Given the jounin sensei for the other genin team in their year, she had feared the worst. But Akimichi Torifu is still a respectable choice–more than, actually, given who the genin are.

Minor clans at best, and none of them particularly prestigious at that. But the Akimichi have always been the most open of the four Noble clans, and it actually makes sense in a way.

They are no Ino-Shika-Cho, not yet–three strangers put on a team and told to risk their lives together–but if anyone could get them near to it, it would be an Akimichi.

She’s not afraid.


	11. (In)Difference Remix, Or: Kiyoshi Fixes Her Mistakes (and makes some new ones)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anonymous: "You are not the man I love; and now you never will be."

The Utsugi clan is small, barely worth the term “clan” all told. Their shinobi rarely rank higher than chuunin, never above special jounin, and they are more than satisfied with their niche role in the village.

Snipers.

No other bloodline or technique in Konoha is as talented at ultra long range assassination as the Utsugi clan, and for that they are regarded with mild distrust and disdain. For all that shinobi espouse hardening their hearts, cunning above valor, for the most part their warrior heritage runs strong.

There is no honor in the Utsugi clan’s abilities.

Honor does not get results.

That is what she needs now: more than honor, more than valor, more than the lingering, unbreakable ties of love, she needs results.

She needs to make things right.

///

Kiyoshi is not a fuinjutsu master–she knows the basics and just enough to tweak said basics–but one of her adorable genin is, with the chakra capacity to power even the most outlandish of seals.

“Sensei are you sure about this?” Kushina asks, even as she dutifully traces out the shapes onto the cave floor. Kiyoshi has sent Mikoto and Hizashi out to check the perimeter; with this team, that’s as close to a command for privacy as she can get, though given who is after them, it’s not entirely a throw away.

“Honestly?” Kiyoshi prompts, because for all that her students will always be adorable genin to her, they are adults now. Equals. She can be the confident jounin sensei or the honest fellow fugitive on the lam, but not both.

Kushina pauses, blinks her violet eyes up at her. For all that it’s her teammates with the doujutsu, Kiyoshi can feel that gaze pierce through her as sharp and thorough as one of her own arrows.

After a long pause, Kushina turns back to her work, answer received.

Kiyoshi, shamefully, is relieved.

///

The problem is Kakashi.

No, that’s not right. The problem is her.

The problem is that without her Kakashi wouldn’t exist–and he has to exist, he is so vital to success–but in order for her to restore the balance of the world, she can’t be involved.

As far as the story she knows is concerned, Kakashi doesn’t have a mother.

Or, no, that’s not right either. As far as the story she knows is concerned, Kakashi’s mother isn’t present.

That’s a very fine needle to thread, but she’s always had impeccable aim.

///

Sakumo is well protected, for all that he thinks he is the protector of his team. He is earnestly charming and charmingly earnest, but Atsumi and Hozue have always been more socially shrewd than him.

The first go around, Kiyoshi avoided him in a misguided and failed attempt to stay away from the thick of things.

This second go around, she seeks him out for one specific reason. It has nothing to do with love or affection–though that night, there is enough similarities to blur those lines–and everything to do with her using him.

The first go around, Atsumi and Hozue were amused by her. Fond and welcoming in their own way.

This second go around, they hate her guts. It certainly doesn’t help anything when, nine months later, she leaves her baby on the Hatake doorstep.

///

The man she loved, the man she married, eventually went on to become the Yondaime Hokage. The White Fang of Konoha who would guide the village through a world war and succumb to the poisonous whispers of hidden roots.

This man with the same name and the same face will never get that far. He is the scapegoat for the war, sacrificed on the altar of public perception, but no further. She will not allow it. She shouldn’t even be in the village now, she has far too much to do, but if there’s one thing she will allow herself it’s this:

The man she saves from himself is as much a copy of the man she loved as the gruesome corpse she left in the Hatake house. But there is something in his dull stare that belatedly flickers at the sight of her. Recognition, probably, but maybe something more.

///

They are not the same. They will never be the same. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t ever one day also hold a place in her heart.


End file.
